Dr Jekyll and Mr Embry
by Juliette06
Summary: What happens when a werewolf fights an imprint? What happens when that werewolf is Embry? These are just a few of the questions that Embry Call is asking himself - he's curious. Are you? Post BD, Embry fic!
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so. Too much creative whatever in my head, need to write something. Thought I'd try my hand at an Embry fic – c'mon, you know it has potential. I'd like to give a shout out to princesswingnut, who has stories that are possibly more addicting than cocaine. Or chocolate.

Anyways. Hope you like it!

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There were a lot of things I was good at. Howling, running, seeming scary and keeping secrets, to name a few. There were, however, a lot of things I was bad at – namely, rules. I didn't like them. It wasn't in my nature to like them. Never had, never will, I hope. But even though I don't like rules, I follow them, for the most part. I mean, hello, I'm a teenage boy. We break rules, it's what we do.

I suppose you're wondering why I'm blubbering on about rules, right? Well, let me start off by saying that there were rules other people had for me and rules that I had for myself. There were rules that I was allowed to break and rules that I was absolutely not allowed to break. For example, the whole… _'You have to keep the secret forever and ever_' thing. That was a rule I was allowed to break. I could tell my mother. I just didn't. I didn't want to break that rule. A rule I wasn't allowed to break was crossing the treaty line. That was a big no-no.

I had tried it once, a couple of years ago. I had been the only one awake, and I had wanted to run, and I got to the line and I was _this_ close to it and Sam woke up, damn him. He made me come home and sleep, tail between my legs. Literally.

Anyways. Not the point, I guess. One of the rules I had for myself is that I could not, should not, WOULD NOT imprint. I know what you're going to say – 'Everyone else is doing it!' Well, I don't care what everyone else is doing. When everyone else was blowing off school for the beach, I was there, studying my head off because, shockingly, I didn't want to be a wolf warrior for the rest of my life. Apparently, that was a new concept in these parts, but at least Sam was happy. He liked us all to have a balance and what-not.

I didn't like the idea of imprinting. No, that's not strong enough. I hated the idea of imprinting. Hatedhatedhated it. More than almost anything ever. I do have a couple of damned good reasons, thank you, before you start thinking I'm mentally unsound (believe me, I think that too. I go around on four legs more often than I go around on two. Definitely something's wrong up here.) – first off: no control. Absolutely no control. You can just look at someone and bam! your life is over forever, attached to some girl (or guy, in Leah's case) you don't know from Eve. I didn't like the sound of it, and I knew I'd hate the feeling of it. I didn't want that. Nobody could make me want that. And, for a while, I wasn't alone in that feeling. Sam was the only one of us who had imprinted, and while he seemed fine and dandy, Leah wasn't. All day every day, we got the bad end of it. And let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. At all.

And that brings me to my second reason: the guys. Slowly but surely, they were getting picked off, one by one. Jared. Quil. Even, gag, Jake, to the genetic freak child. But, I don't have anything against the half-way bloodsucker, I guess. Other than the fact that she stole my best friend.

God. How girly does that sound? Well, whatever, she did and you know it. Ever since she was born, ever since Jake laid eyes on her, that was it. Bam. If it were another situation, he would've been paying rent at the Cullen's he spent so much time there.

It used to be me, Quil, and Jacob. We were us. I don't know how else to say it. We were us. We'd been best friend since age three. I mean, it's not like we had best friend charms or something or we painted eachother's nails or whatever, we were just us.

That kinda went away when I phased. If you remember, I was first, next to Sam. I think Sam was what set me off, I don't really remember. Mom had been giving me some lecture, I think, and she had said something along the lines of, 'Why can't you be more like the Uley boy – so responsible', and that just did me in. I was suddenly on fire, my body was exploding and I swear to god my heart was beating so fast it flatlined for a minute there. I probably scared Mom half to death because I froze and then I ran. It's a good thing, too, because the second I was out the door I had four legs and gunmetal gray fur was coming out of me. I had no idea what was going on. I was scared and…well, scared a few thousand more times. I ran to the woods. I don't know how long I stayed there, curled up like some pathetic puppy (boy, the Blond Bimbette of the Cullen Coven would've had a field day with _that_), whimpering.

Sam, of course, knew exactly what was happening to me. It just took a long time for me to calm down enough to listen. Normally, I'm a pretty chill kinda guy. I guess I get it from my dad, but that's totally another story. But when the dude who's two years older than you starts trying to make you believe in magic, you have to say I had every right to go a little crazy.

But, eventually, I calmed down. I had to, right? I don't remember much about my days in the woods – time seemed to go so much slower but so much faster, days changing into nights so fast I couldn't keep up with it and then nights dragging on until I was sure I was dead. My head wouldn't stop aching, my body wouldn't stop being on fire. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I still don't know how the hell Sam did this alone. I probably would've killed myself without him.

Wow, way to get off topic, Em. What was I talking about? Right, the guys. See, there was a big, huge, wolf-sized problem with the secret thing – nobody could know unless they were wolves themselves. And that meant I couldn't tell Quil or Jake, not until they were sprouting fur themselves. Sam 'suggested' that I just stay away from them until they were ready, and it was so hard. I had always told them everything, eventually. Maybe not instantly, like Quil did, but eventually, they got it out of me. Always. And now, guess what, I had to keep half of who I was from them. Fun fun.

But you guys know that story, right? Vampire Girl (Bella) got involved, Jake got involved, and things sort of spiraled after that. You know all about Bella's hell and Jake's hell and the Cullen's hell. Too bad you don't know about _my_ hell. Because damn, I think it could've blown the fire out of any of the other guys' hells.

Curious? Don't be. It sucked.

It's name was Felicity. And I loved her.


	2. Chapter 2

It's name was Felicity. And I loved her.

Yeah. Remember that whole 'I hate imprinting' rant? It still applied. Believe me. It just got…complicated. You wanna know all the grizzly details? Fine, I'll tell you. I didn't know her name then, though. All I knew was...Well, I guess you'll see.

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It was a perfectly normal day. Well, as normal as things got in La Push. Jake was at the Cullens _again_, Quil was with Claire…All the imprints were with their imprintees, which meant it was just me and Leah. I didn't have anything against Leah, not really, she was just annoying sometimes. Well, okay, understatement of the century, but whatever, right? There wasn't anything really wrong with her, not really. In fact, I think we could've been friends if the situation had been different.

"Embry. You're on my beach." I knew it was her without even looking up. I was sitting on the edge of the beach, my feet barely touching the water as it lapped up onto the shore. I knew it should've been cold, but nothing was cold to me. Not anymore. Nothing was cold to any of us.

"Wasn't aware it was your property, Leah." I said dully, picking up a rock to skip it. Of course, I failed. Rock-skipping wasn't something I was good at.

"Jeez. At least when the guys were around you were _fun_." Leah said, plopping down next to me. We were almost matching without even trying – of course she wasn't shirtless like me, but we had the same russet skintone, almost the same color hair (her's looked more like…molasses or something. Blacker. Mine was more of a milk chocolate, or so my mom told me.), and the exact same expression. And our clothes, too. Me, I was shirtless, and she was wearing a skin-colored spaghetti strap top and cut off jeans. Matching.

Yeah, because being identical to Leah Clearwater was _so_ high on my list of 'Things I Want to Do Before I Die' list.

"Thanks, Leah. Really, it means a lot." Was my response, picking up another rock just have something to do. I really was boring, I guess, but I wasn't going to tell Leah of all people that. We had to at least fake like we hated each other. It wouldn't do to show that we could tolerate each other, we had images to keep.

"Jake still with the freak?" She picked up a smooth silver stone and skipped it neatly five times across the water. I hate her.

"Yep." Since I wasn't in the mood to be outdone, I just threw it as far as I could.

"Sucks for you." She skipped another rock. It was times like this that I wondered about our 'relationship', if you could call it that. We played a dangerous game sometimes.

"Yep." I didn't pick up another rock, I was already bored of that. If there was one thing about summer in Forks, it's that it was easily the most depressing thing in the world.

It hadn't been like that before. Before we all phased and went through whatever freaky crap we went through, summers were the best times of my life. Me, Quil and Jake had so much fun, just screwing around. Leah had Sam. Seth…Well, nothing bothers Seth, so he's pretty much the same. Brady and Collin were fine, too, though they still think this whole fur thing is 'neat', was Collin's word, I believe. Maybe he was gay or something.

Before my mind could wander down the gay/imprinting road, Leah broke into my thoughts.

"Yo, Em, you with me? This is Earth, calling long lost-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here, what?" I snapped. It came out harsher than I meant it to. I tried not to be any meaner to Leah than I could help, because I knew that all that anger was just a defense mechanism. I'd had something like that for a little while, when I was about thirteen and thought the world sucked. Not saying it doesn't, I was just more vocal about it then.

"Nothin'."

"Great, Leah. Thanks. Wow, what would I have done without that life-changing information?"

"Sheesh, when did you become Mr. Sarcastic?" She snorted, then quickly stood and dusted her jeans off. "I'm gonna go for a run. Wanna come?"

"So Sam's with Emily, then." It was a low blow, I knew it, and more importantly, so did she. I saw her jaw clench tightly and her chocolate brown eyes close down. Good job, Embry. Really. "Sorry." I said, even though I knew it was too late.

"Whatever." She said, and she turned and left, walking –no, jogging, then running -- towards the woods. I sighed, and halfway played with the idea of going after her. But I knew that that would upset the delicate strings between us, it would make it more confusing than it already was. The last thing I needed was more confusion.

So, of course, whatever I didn't want, I got.

She was just walking down the beach. She had a video camera in her hand, apparently talking to it. She had long brown hair that went past her shoulders, with the lightly tanned skin that screamed 'tourist'.

And she was wearing bright red Converses. That was the first thing I noticed about her. That, and she was wearing cargo pants in the middle of summer. I let my eyes move to her face and instantly, furiously, impossibly wished I hadn't.

She was _beautiful_. No, she wasn't beautiful. That wasn't a big enough word. She was everything that any guy could ever possibly want ever. The red Converses? So adorable. The cargo pants? So cute.

Hang on a second.

"No!" I roared. Even from the distance of about ten feet, I knew what was wrong with me. I knew what happening and I would not allow it. Not now, not ever. "No, no, no. Please, no." I wished for anyone. Leah, Jake (please, Jake! Help!), Quil…Hell, even Paul would've done. At least then I could've punched something.

Why was she running to me?

"Are you okay?" She asked breathlessly, skidding to a stop so fast it sent sand flying up around us. "What happened? Did you see a shark? Dude, that would've been so cool!"

"…Get away from me." I spat, my usually-bright eyes dark and hateful, I'm sure. Her brow knitted lightly in confusion, and she tilted her beautiful head at me. I wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her it would all be okay, that there was nothing to worry about.

In one of the rare moments that Jake had actually been around, I had asked him what it felt like when he imprinted. He said it felt like there was a string attached to Nessie and it was keeping him grounded.

Except, I didn't want the string. No thread for me. I didn't need anybody, let alone some crazy chick going around on a beach with cargo pants on. No. No. Not for me. No.

"What?" She said, frowning more heavily. Again, the voice roared inside of me, don't frown! I promise, I don't mean it!

"Get away from me!" I said, louder, a snarl ripping through my teeth. That's one of the things I can do well, remember? I can be scary if I want to be. I can be terrifying if I wanted to be.

I wanted to be.

"…Okay…" She said slowly, taking a step back. "Uh, you just…yeah, you go do whatever the hell you need to do." I could see she was wondering if I was mentally sound, and I wasn't.

"No, wait," I said quickly, pleadingly. My control over my instincts was slipping with every step away she took. Why was she leaving? Oh, right, because I'd told her to. "Please don't go. Please. Don't leave." I reached out to take her hand and she jerked away, eyes marginally wider now.

"Uh, yeah, no." She was retreating faster now, stumbling over her own shoes. "I'm just gonna call for some help…"

"No!" I said, again too loudly. "Just leave me the hell alone! What part of that don't you understand?" I snapped, glaring at her with full force. And my glare was something to my reckoned with, let me tell you.

"I'm trying! Forgive me for being worried about the crazy, shirtless dude on the beach!" She snapped, fire in her…amazingly, heart-stoppingly, chili-pepper emerald green eyes. I think my heart did stop for a minute or two, actually. It was only for a second, though, and then I was back in control. Imprint or not, I would not be yelled at by the girl who had effectively ruined my life just by getting out of bed this morning.

"I'm not crazy!" I yelled, probably not doing anything to prove that statement positive as I was scaring some birds in the forest. _Uh oh_. Getting a werewolf angry wasn't good under the best circumstances, and these were not the best circumstances. At _all_. "Just get the hell away from me!"

"Fine!" She yelled, the fire in her eyes even brighter. Oh my god, I loved her. I loved the way she moved and the way she didn't realize her hair was in her face and how she didn't care that she was scaring birds too.

"Fine!" I yelled back for no real reason. She turned on her heel and stomped away. I ran after her. Of course I did, I was imprinted. When you're imprinted, you _have_ to go after them. It's the way we were built. Well, the way we were supposed to be built, I guess. Maybe something went wonky during my being-put-together phase, I don't know.

But I went after her. I caught her arm and it was like an electric zap to my brain, short-circuiting absolutely everything. I had no idea what to say. I had no idea where I was. I had no idea _who_ I was. I basically had no idea about anything.

"_What_?" God, she was hot (what a terrible, not-special enough word) when she was irritated and spooked and whatever else she was feeling. I felt a distant sort of pain that it was my fault, but I would make it up to her.

I let go of her arm. "Sorry." I turned on my heel and walked away. I wanted it to be forever. I didn't want to make it up to her. I never wanted to see her ever again. I would rather die than be imprinted, so maybe that's what I would have to do. Dying seemed perfectly reasonable if I couldn't have her, and I wouldn't break one of my rules just for her. I couldn't. I had said I wouldn't imprint and I meant it. And, of course, the wolf inside me agreed – dying was better than living without her. But, being a wolf, it was really really hard for me to die. _Really_. I'd thought about it before, but so far the only thing I'd been able to come up with was a vampire, and I wasn't going to go to them.

So, I left. She marched one way, I marched the other. I don't know where she went. I didn't know her name and I didn't want to know. I wanted her gone, so she was gone and so was I. When I was out of sight, I shifted. It was natural these days, being on four legs. Leah had phased back, apparently, so my head was mine for once.

And then, I plopped down on the sand and just laid there, watching the tide roll in and out. Must not think. Must not think about her. Must not think. I could already feel the hole in the pit of my heart where she should've been if I was normal.

But I wasn't normal, so I just lay there and wished I could die.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Mmhm. Well. Yeah. Seeing how the last two chapters were written respectively at 1 and 3AM, I think it's excusable that I forgot about the two-pack dealio. As much as I loooove that idea, I'm three chapters in and I don't really want to bother fixing it. So, just the one pack, 'kay? Oh, and this is a shoutout to my lovely and only reviewer so far. Thanks so much! You have no idea how much that sort of thing inspires me to write. 3 And holy macaroni that's a lot of hits. Thank you guys so much! 3333 Oh, and I promise it'll get less angsty eventually. Really, it will. 333

Shutting up now!

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So I just lay there and wished I could die.

And there was a problem with this. I swear, I felt like someone with Multiple Personality Disorder I had so many voices screaming in my head. And only one of them was Sam's, and I was ignoring him. But back to the problem – voices or no, I hadn't ever really been much of a moper. Sure, I would pout and sulk for a while, but then I was say 'oh well' and get over it already. It's a good thing when your mom's telling you to be less childish, but a bad thing when you're trying to not-think to death.

It wasn't working. I slowly stood up and looked around, my wolf eyes picking up more in the dark than my human eyes would've been able to. I liked being in my wolf form, at least at the moment. I don't know how long I just lay there, staring blankly at the ocean, but during that time, the hole in my chest where fire-eye girl should've been had gotten bigger, and now it _hurt_. My god, did it hurt. It wasn't even really a hole anymore, it was just this big, black empty void where I knew I used to have feelings. I used to care. Now I didn't really care about anything except her. And I hated it.

_Embry?_ It was Sam again, and I growled lowly in annoyance. I didn't want his superduper awesomely mature voice in my head, telling me how wonderful imprinting was and congratulations! and whatever other crap he'd been spewing. He still hadn't come to find me. _Are you okay?_

Wow. Dumb question. _I'm fine_. I lied, shrugging to no one in particular. Sam would know it was a lie because, well, he could see that a bomb had gone off in my head. Of all the members of the pack, I was usually the calmest, the one hankering the least for a possible death-match. Sam could see that was no longer the case.

_Who is she?_ In Sam's head, it was being replayed for the hundredth time: the girl, with her strange clothes and her frightening (well, I'm sure if I were human it would've been frightening. As it was, I had fought and killed _vampires_. It took kind of a lot to scare me.) glare and the sound of her voice…I let out a low whine and shut my eyes, trying my hardest not to see it.

_I don't know. I don't _want _to know._ I answered, eyeing the cliff down the beach. I wondered if I could make it there without anybody seeing me. I was _kind of_ obvious, being gigantic, gray and probably foaming at the mouth.

_You don't want to know_? Sam repeated, and I felt his shock. Too bad I didn't care about his shock. Sadly, the imprint thing was still working, just differently. I suddenly felt like my whole life was about her – herherherherher and making sure she never got a name, never got another foothold in my life, never ever giving her that kind of control over me. I would not allow it.

_Embry._ The voice was deeper now, shades of the Alpha Voice. I fought a growl and flicked an ear at him in my head, mentally sighing. I didn't care if he could hear me.

_Sam._ I answered. _Well, now that we've all been introduced, I think I'm gonna head out. See ya 'round, El Capitan_. And before he could react or order me to stay, I was human again.

Which was a little bit of a problem. I'd been so mad when I phased I kind of forgot to take off my pants, so now I was just sitting naked on the beach. Crap. Letting a low growl run through my lips again, I let myself sprout fur. Luckily, Sam was still running patrol, thinking about his beloved _Emily_. Ugh. Gag me.

_I need pants_. I thought glumly, resting my head down on my paws, sulking again. I didn't need his gloating right now. Stupid Alpha who knew I needed pants. Stupid fire-eyes girl who ruined my life. Stupid world. Did I need a reason to hate the world? I mean, come on, let's be reasonable.

Sam came up to me a few minutes later, sweatpants clenched lightly between his teeth, being careful not to poke any holes in them. Before he could think anything at me, I shifted back and took the sweatpants, pulling them on.

"Could you have brought anything warmer?" I asked gruffly, snorting. "Thanks. You can leave now."

Sam blinked in surprise. I mean, I guess I couldn't blame him. I wasn't in line for the Alpha-hood, _thank God_, and I had never ever even snapped at him before, let alone be openly rude to him.

I was having a very bad day. Yeah, that's my excuse. You'd be grumpy too if you were in my shoes.

"What? Did you forget how to- " Before I could say anything else that would get me in more trouble, Sam shifted back, pulling on the jeans he had wrapped around his ankle.

"_Embry_." Ah, there we go. The Alpha Voice. Yaaay. Special, special me. "What are you doing?" I couldn't not answer, so I shrugged.

"Thinking." I stood up and dusted off my pants. I didn't want anyone's comfort or anyone's pity or anyone's peptalks. I wanted to wake up and laugh about the terrible nightmare I'd been having.

"_Embry._" Dammit, couldn't I do _anything_ without getting the stupid Alpha Voice? I had started to walk away, and he stopped me. I felt my knees shake a little, but I ignored it. I was too used to being pushed around by his stupid Alpha-ness. Grr. I hate him.

"Yes, oh wise one?" I asked smoothly, turning to raise my eyebrows at him. "Is it a crime now, wanting some alone time?"

"Well…you just imprinted." He seemed uncomfortable, but I couldn't bring myself to care right now. After all, I had just imprinted, right? All that mattered was her.

Finding her and ripping her head off, that is.

"Yes." _Yes I did, Captain Obvious. Thanks for pointing it out._

"Don't you want to be _with_ your imprint?" He asked it with that innocence that all imprints had. I suppose it made sense, at least to them: the world was suddenly so _clear_ and _bright_ and it _made sense_ and all that other psycho-babble they were always spewing.

"No." Take that, innocence.

"Why not?" Again, the innocence and curiosity and wonder. I didn't have to be in wolf form to know his thoughts – how could someone not want to be with their imprint? It wasn't natural, there was something wrong with him…

"Because I hate her." It really was as simple as that. She had gone and walked down _my_ beach when _I_ was there and now I _loved her_. It was all her stupid fault. I hated her more than I thought it was possible to hate someone that I loved. Man, talk about a love/hate relationship. No! No relationship! Bad, bad Embry! Badbadbad thought. Must erase. Never happened.

Maybe I actually _had_ Multiple Personality Disorder. It wouldn't surprise me. _At all_.

Before Sam had time to react to that, I started walking again, not really noticing I was going up to the cliff, the one where me and my friends –ha, friends- used to go cliffdiving. Where were my so-called friends these days? Off with their snugglybuggly loved ones. And half of them were reading bed time stories.

I snorted through my nose, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants, trying to do anything and everything I could to stop thinking about _her_. Her high cheekbones, her messy hair, her eyes, _oh God her eyes_.

_No_. I scolded myself, stepping away from the edge of the cliff, listless as always. I hadn't ever been able to sit still for any measurable amount of time. My eyes were on the ground beneath my bare feet, noticing each individual pebble that scrambled away from my toes as they collided.

I didn't even see her. I didn't _have_ to see her.

"No." I breathed, catching sight of those damnable red Converses. I just shook my head and turned around, knowing that if I didn't, I'd be putty for the second time that day, and that was entirely unacceptable. "Nu uh. No way. Nothin' doin', sorry chickadee, it's time for you to fly away home now." I said over my shoulder, coming to the very edge of the cliff again. I heard her sharp intake of breath – man, she really _must_ be a tourist not to know about cliffdiving, huh?

"Chickadee? Nothin' doin' _what_? Are you crazy? If you are, then at least tell me so I can stop _worrying_ about you." I didn't really see what my being crazy had to do with anything, let alone her worrying about me (_She worried about me! YES!_ The voice screamed in my head.), so I gritted my teeth. I wanted to make her as miserable as she had made me. Except, I didn't. I wanted to make her as happy as humanly possible, but I hated myself for it.

"No, I'm not crazy, but if you keep hanging around I will be." I said gruffly, edging forward. I could feel her eyes –those Chinese-dragon, leaf-on-the-tree-in-the-middle-of-summer-green eyes that made me want to fall to my knees and beg to stay with her forever- on my back. I willed myself not to care. That was another thing I was good at. I had a lot of willpower. I had enough willpower to keep my mother from finding out what we were. I had enough willpower to keep myself from offing myself when my best friends imprinted and left me behind.

If I had enough willpower to do all that, why didn't I have enough willpower to face this one little human girl? Even if I _did_ love her, I was no wimp.

I turned around. I met her eyes. Then I let myself fall backwards off the cliff. I knew in that moment that I could die happy, because I had seen those eyes one last time.


End file.
